


We'll Always Have Canto Bight

by blueteak



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A little Poe/Leia UST, F/M, Mission Fic, Pre-TFA, Star Wars The Last Jedi spoilers, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: Shortly after joining the Resistance, Poe is assigned to serve under Vice Admiral Holdo.





	We'll Always Have Canto Bight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



It had been done with a speed that could have sent BB-8’s head spinning. Poe had agreed to serve the Resistance, recruited by General Leia Organa herself, and then, four short months later he was transferred to serve under Vice Admiral Holdo. 

Temporarily. That was what Leia had promised, anyway, when she’d seen the look on his face after she’d pulled him aside and informed him. It had embarrassed him that she’d been able to read the dismay he’d felt so clearly.

It could have been worse; since she could clearly read his face, it made sense to think she knew how much he wanted to get on his knees for her. Stars, she could probably read his mind too, come to think of it. It was easy to forget she was Force-sensitive given that she never spoke of it and Luke wasn’t around juggling lightsabers to remind everyone that she was really a Skywalker, too. 

Some of his tendency toward reverence was sexual, certainly. Poe would definitely sleep with Leia in any way she wanted, as Snap had observed once when Poe's legs, already cramped from a long flight, wobbled just a little more on exiting his X-Wing once he saw that she had come to meet his squadron in the hanger. But a lot of it, and he definitely hoped she hadn’t read his mind for this part, was that being around her reminded him of the hours he’d spent under the Force tree back home. Like it, she provided a sense of peace. Not unruffled, but constant, no matter the breeze. Unceasingly seeking the light.

She was also just so strong, whether she was encouraging creative solutions to problems such as “The First Order is Rising and Terror I Thought I Had Defeated is Destroying the Galaxy and My Family” and diplomatically (or less diplomatically sometimes, when it came to bantha-brained schemes—particularly his bantha-brained schemes) shooting down ideas that were certainly creative but also potentially too risky or not diplomatic enough.

He wasn’t being sent away for being attracted to her or thinking of her as a tree or coming up with one risky idea too many, though. No, it was that she didn’t believe he’d had enough experience dealing with people with different command styles. He wasn’t sure why that mattered. He was a pilot. He blew things up when he was told and led others in helping to blow them up effectively. He wasn’t terrible at information-gathering, either, or undercover (though that had stopped when those kriffing posters Yolo had made started to be circulated widely). Why he needed to experience someone telling him to blow up this or that or find this person or adopt a disguise as a Corellian spice trader in a different tone of voice than Leia or his previous superiors had used he did not know. When he had politely asked Leia about it, she’d raised an eyebrow (imperiously, he thought, though he tried to get that traitorous word out of his head), and said that in asking her about it he was helping prove her point.

And so he arrived at Holdo’s temporary base on Pamarthe only to find that his stay there would be more temporary than he had thought. He had managed to show up in the middle of an evacuation drill. He wondered at first why no one had thought to inform him of what he'd be flying into, but then figured Vice Admiral Holdo was testing his ability to adapt to surprise. Or she had forgotten to let him know. Before he could track down someone to ask when a good time to present himself to Holdo would be, he found himself hailed by a human woman dressed in what looked to be Alderaanian fashion. The clothes she was wearing meant she would not have looked out of place in old holos about Princess Leia, actually. 

“Commander Dameron?,” she asked. “Well, I mean of course you’re Commander Dameron. From the posters.”

“I…yes,” he replied, finding himself standing tall, shoulders back as he had in the “Watching Over the Skies and Stars” posters. He caught himself making the pose, shrugged, and grinned wide, fully embracing the ridiculousness of the posters and the pose he’d been making. 

The woman smiled back, smirking a little, but her eyes were kind. She came closer, dodging around a few ground crew members who gave her room when they saw her coming.

“Commander, I have something to confess. This evacuation isn’t entirely a drill. It’s not as much of an emergency as we’re making it seem, but we need to find a new place to lie low, and to do that we need to remind rich, safe senators of past and present deeds of bravery. And who can do that better than the poster boy of the Resistance?”

“And a woman in a Leia outfit,” Poe returned. 

The woman nodded. “Needs must. I’m sure Leia would find it hilarious. So. We have a shuttle that will take us to a charity fundraiser on Canto Bight where we can also ask for money for our own "charity." I’ve been assured that you will be unmolested by the First Order and, for that matter, the Republic, who are still upset about your defection. Shall we?”

Plaster rained down a few feet to the right of them. For an evacuation that wasn’t really as much of an emergency as this seemed, Poe had to give Holdo, wherever she was, credit for the simulation. Everyone was calm, thinking it was entirely a drill, but they were also giving it their best and would be able to evaluate strengths and weaknesses and prepare in the event that there ever came a time when the evacuation was a true emergency. 

Poe was more than ready to ditch Pamarthe, especially since he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, but he could just imagine Leia’s reaction to news that he’d bailed on Vice Admiral Holdo before having spent more than ten minutes on her base. He didn’t think Leia would buy the excuse that he was “between assignments” if he went jetting off to Canto Bight. 

“I’m in, but did Vice Admiral Holdo pre-authorize this? Do you have a way to inform her that I’m coming with?” He paused for a minute. “Also, please don’t take offense at my asking, but who are you? I’m guessing you definitely rank above commander if you’re reading me in on this fake evacuation being a real one?”

The woman—he had to stop thinking of her as Leia-But-Not-Leia, which was hard given that the outfit she was wearing was similar to the one worn by Leia in that poster he’d had on his wall growing up—looked taken aback, but then seemed to come to a decision. From the face she was making, he wasn’t sure he was going to like whatever that decision was. She was definitely keeping something from him. 

But then there was another loud bang and a transport took off to raucous cheers. Poe hoped he never had to find out whether the cheering would take on a different quality during what everyone definitely knew was an actual evacuation. When he looked away from the transport, he found that the woman was running toward a shuttle and motioning at him to come along. 

“Definitely above commander,” she told him, shooting him a look as they ran. “And I’ll let Vice Admiral Holdo know.”

Well, okay then. Whatever she was keeping from him wasn’t going to involve keeping him from this mission, which meant he could let it go for now. He’d reassess if it looked like whatever it was would jeopardize the mission, but his gut told him it wouldn’t. His mother (and his own years of experience) had always taught him to trust his gut. 

“And what do I call you?” he shouted as they got closer to the craft, engines already running.

She answered once they got inside. “You can call me Vanya Berthillion. It’s the name I’ll be going under on Canto Bight.”

Poe looked at her appraisingly. “There’s either a price on your head so high you couldn’t wrangle safe passage or you’re not officially meant to be there. Which is it?”

Vanya (it helped to have a name, even if it was a false one) looked like she was getting ready to tell him it was need-to-know and he didn’t need to know, but she relented at the last minute. “The latter. I’m still officially New Republic. For now.”

“But you’re really a Rebel,” he confirmed, letting the admiration he felt for someone preparing to jump ship shine through. He knew how hard it was to defect even while knowing the New Republic was being willfully blind, and he’d only been a commander. This woman's air of command let him know she was giving up something more, something she had probably been working toward since before he’d learned to fly. 

She smiled as if her decision had been the easiest one in the world to make. “Yes,” she told him. And then, while the smile remained in her eyes, her lips quirked in judgment. “But not quite as much of one as you are.”

“Hey,” he said, holding up his hands. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I know how to follow orders.”

“Mmm… hmmm,” Vanya said, pulling out her datapad. “I’ll just ‘inform’ Vice Admiral Holdo that we’re on our way, shall I?” she asked sweetly as their shuttle took off.

Poe sighed and acknowledged her point. 

When Vanya finally looked up from her datapad, they were practically on Canto Bight. Poe had already guessed that he wasn’t in charge of the plan. Vanya didn’t project power in the same way Leia did, as a solid force that demanded you take notice even if she was just asking you the time. No, Vanya’s mode of command reminded him of water rather than earth. It carried you along with its current in a way you didn’t really notice, though it seemed it could turn, suddenly, to ice. 

He caught himself thinking of how she had practically whisked him onto the shuttle, the challenge in her eyes as they'd run, and realized that he wouldn’t mind feeling that icy, freezing burn. He almost moaned out loud. Kriffing hell, if one of the things Leia was trying to teach him was that he was attracted to a lot of different kind of command styles even if he didn’t always obey the commands, well…it was working. He wondered, idly, whether he’d be into Holdo’s command style, too.

Of course Vanya chose that moment to look up. 

“You okay there, Commander?” she asked, amused.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, voice not sounding hoarse in the least, thank you very much. 

She smiled a bit to herself, but moved ahead with her briefing, telling him who they would be asking for money and who they’d be pressuring for landing strips and/or space they could park larger-class ships that couldn’t be accommodated near D’Qar. 

One thing Vanya neglected to do, Poe reflected a short time later, was brief him on what to do should she run the risk of being recognized by someone else who wasn’t meant to be there, which was how Poe found himself kissing her as though her life depended on it just as their mission was ending. 

He’d seen her stiffen and look back at him, the angle of her Leia-ish Alderaanian hood not enough to protect her from the gaze of…someone he vaguely recognized from the Fleet. 

Poe hadn't thought about it—he'd just stepped forward, pressed her into him and kissed her, deftly tugging at the hood to make it look like he was trying to get it off in order to run his hands through her hair while actually using it to further obscure Vanya’s face. 

“Dameron! Defecting from the Fleet to romance women on Canto Bight! Hero of the Resistance my ass,” the drunken…major, if Poe had placed him correctly, sneered at him.

Poe didn’t even bother to open his eyes, just made a rude gesture while still holding Vanya’s hood in place. 

The major laughed and moved on, but Poe didn’t break away, and neither did Vanya. They were drunk on success (the combination of nostalgia and new hope had done wonders with donors) and it seemed the danger had gotten their adrenaline going.  
Despite the risk, Poe felt both invincible and somewhat hazy, even as he attempted to stay alert enough to remain aware of their surroundings. Vanya's fingers carding through his hair helped him with that; every time he felt like he would never open his eyes again, would kiss Vanya until he starved because he could hardly bear to be apart even to come up for air, she tugged a little at his hair, reminding him to keep alert. It didn’t hurt that the little jolts of minor pain also went directly to his cock.

Moments later, they got the all clear from a voice Poe recognized as that of their shuttle pilot, who good-naturedly told them to get a room. 

They broke apart, eyes dark, and Poe let himself be led to one of the upstairs rooms. They’d certainly won enough gambling one round with their personal funds to afford to take their shuttle pilot's advice and find a room for the night rather than crashing on the shuttle for a few hours with the pilot.

There was even enough money left over for Poe to venture out beyond the hotel to find a decadent breakfast to take to Vanya in bed the next day. Caf so well roasted Poe didn’t mind it had cost almost as much as BB-8. Fruit he’d never heard of that he’d been allowed to sample and then wished he hadn’t because he’d had to have it, imagining kissing Vanya after she’d experienced the joy of biting into something so fresh and tartly sweet it scoured all memory of ration packs out of the mind. 

However, when he got back to their hotel room, Vanya was sitting up in bed with a datapad. She was still naked, but her smile was subdued when she saw him. Poe’s heart dropped. They’d relayed the needed codes for landing areas and sent the money from various benefactors where it needed to go before they’d attended to…other business the night before. It shouldn't have been anything to do with the evacuation of Pamarthe. Was it D’Qar? He put the food and caf down on the nightstand and sat next to her, shoulder brushing up against her still-bare shoulder.

Vanya gestured toward the datapad. “There’s been a message. Vice Admiral Holdo’s ordered you back to Leia.”

This was…good news, yes. But what—he’d had no word that he’d disobeyed, that this mission to Canto Bight hadn’t been sanctioned. “Why? Is everything alright?”

Vanya shrugged. “She didn’t tell me, but it doesn’t sound like you’re in trouble.”

Poe kissed her shoulder, then trailed some more kisses across her collarbone, moving to straddle her. “Huh. Well, do we have time for…” 

Vanya smirked and grabbed his ass, ground up into him. A little light came back into her eyes, but she pushed him away. “No. And thank you for bringing breakfast in bed, but we’ll have to eat it at lightspeed. Back on the ship.”

Vanya spent most of the trip to D'Qar working on her datapad, but the silence was companionable and he soon drifted off to sleep, the exertions of the previous night catching up with him. He woke during their descent to D'Qar, discovering that he'd cuddled against Vanya as he slept. She'd put the datapad to the side and rested a hand on his head. When she sensed he'd woken, she'd started running her fingers through his hair, scritching his scalp in a way that sent shockwaves of pleasure all through his body. Though he was excited to be home, he didn't want this to end, even after they landed

Leia was waiting for him in the hangar. She looked resigned, but wasn’t looking at him like he’d monumentally screwed up. After she’d nodded at him in acknowledgement, she looked past him to Vanya, who hadn’t started down the gangplank. 

He turned back and kissed Vanya’s cheek in farewell, which was oddly enough to make her blush. “Maybe Leia will send me back to Holdo if I’m bad,” he leaned in and whispered in her ear, making her shiver. 

Her eyes darkened, but her whispered “behave” was earnest. 

Vanya then looked beyond him to Leia, and then inexplicably looked down again, like she was fighting both laughter and embarrassment. They clearly knew one another, and perhaps Vanya wasn’t the type to appreciate friends or acquaintances knowing about her one-nighters with flyboys, especially when those flyboys were under the command of someone she knew. Fair enough. 

“Take care of yourself, Vanya,” he said before striding down the gangplank toward home.

The shuttle took off as soon as his feet left it, and it wasn’t until it did that he realized he’d never learned Vanya’s actual name.

“Who was she?” he asked Leia, who appeared to be a grumpy sort of amused at his return. 

“Oh, I promised her I wouldn’t tell you, but I can’t wait to see your face when you find out,” Leia informed him. 

As it happened, Leia was unconscious on the _Raddus_ when Poe found out. 

"That's Vice Admiral Holdo? Battle of Chyron Belt Vice Admiral Holdo?" he asked the person next to him. Holdo's gaze met his from across the room. "Not what I was expecting."

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely diverged from canon in quite a few places, but I couldn't get the idea of pre-TLJ Poe&Holdo mission fic out of my mind. Happy Chocolate Box, Fearful_Captain_Biff_Elderberry!


End file.
